


One day Clint Barton is gonna get his ass kicked, but not today.

by PishTosh (Bishmonster)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Darcy needs a helping hand, F/M, Glove Kink, Jealous Natasha, Possessive Natasha Romanov, The Author Regrets Nothing, voyurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bishmonster/pseuds/PishTosh
Summary: Clint sees a struggling Darcy during his patrol through the vents, he decides to help her out.





	1. Voyurism

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep is for the Weak!!!!

She was at it again. Damn. This was the third time this week! Clint peered down through the grate to the woman on the bed below, his vision only slightly obscured. Darcy Lewis, intern, lay on top of her rumbled bedding, hands between her thighs, knees up and spread, breast still encased in their lace bondage,. Black with tiny lime green polka dots. Fuck that's hot. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was presenting for him.

A moan escaped her red and sinful lips. She shifted and that cascade of hair fanned out on the sheets, dark staining cream. Clint was glad he chose to wear his aides. To hear her. The breathy and quiet moans and the slick sound of her fingers on her pussy.

This was so very wrong. On so many levels. But Clint knew how to compartmentalize. He could block any dirtybadwrong feelings he had about spying on the sweet little intern. Again. Easy Peasy. He'd done much worse before and kept his sanity. But this... was a little extra pervy, even for him.

Darcy had a little wrinkle between her brow and her glasses were missing. An unobstructed view of her face was a rare thing. Clint''s vision wasn't failing him. Her cheeks were flush and her lips were wet and open. They looked so soft, inviting. He wondered what she tasted like.

This time Darcy whimpered and she made a little grunt of frustration. She was over thinking again. Like she had last time and the time before that. He came too late. She was about to give up and storm off. Damn. He wanted to see more. Clint flicked his gaze down between her legs, straight to the prize. Fuck. His cock instantly swelled.

She glistened. And was pink. The outer labia spread with one dainty thumb while she gently rubbed her swollen bud. Her inner lips were redder, like she had tried there first and failed. Poor Darcy. She was crazy sexually frustrated.

She finally stopped all motion and let out a little half scream. She flipped over onto her side, and drew the open flaps of her button up dress to cover her. She curled up and buried her head in her pillow.

Clint could not take it anymore.

Quiet and deft. He flipped out of the vent like the circus performer he used to be. He dropped to the floor silently, all those years of stealth training preventing him from making sound.

She hadn't noticed his presence. Not until his body weight dipped the mattress. She made a noise of surprise and did a half turn. "Whaaa?" She called out. The room was dim and her glasses were still on the bedside table. She had to squint at him and purse her mouth. He wanted to bite those lips. Bad.

"Clint?" She asked completely surprised. "What are you doing here?" Her blue eyes were wide. She looked incredibly young. Vulnerable. Fuck. That did things to him.

Instead of answering her, Clint laid a hand on one bare knee. Her dress was short and he was pretty sure she had been wearing tights earlier. It didn't matter, the contrast of his fingerless gloved hand on her pale skin was obscene and they hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet. He pulled her knees open. She didn't exactly struggle but she didn't just flop over into her back like he want her to either.

"What the fuck Clint?" He was stronger than her. There was no doubt. She put up resistance but no protest. In the end, her legs were parted and he was between them, looking at her soft pink pussy.

"Let me help." He said after she caught his eye. She looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to kick him in the face or cry. He'd take the first one over the other any day. Crying females just made him feel sketchy. He wasn't sure how he'd react to a crying Darcy Lewis. The plucky, mouthy, designated Queen of the labs.

She did neither. Instead she sighed and let her head fall back in the mattress. "Good luck to ya." She quipped. "I think it's broken."

There was his girl. Always rolling with the punches just like him. Clint grinned at her even though she couldn't see it, then he ducked his head down. To see what he was working with.

She was still damp. And she smelled... divine. A little fruity. A little salty. He touched her with his bare fingertips. She was warm. Real warm and so very soft. He wondered if she would protest at the callouses on his hands.

Clint spread her plump pussy lips, to see the redness of her. She looked tight. Unused and a little virginal. He knew this wasn't true. During on of Tony's drinking games she had drunkingly confessed to hooking up with some "douche nozzle" at Culver. Clint didn't think she had much other experience. This definitely made him feel old and pervy. He was well into his thirties. And she... was so... was only 24.

Doesn't matter. He thought to himself. She wasn't telling him to fuck off. Not yet at least. And she needed relief. It was a natural thing to want and he could help her. He was only doing his part.

Yeah. Because he was such a good fucking Samaritan.

"Are you just gonna look at it all day?" She didn't sound mad, maybe a little impatient, but not mad.

"S'pretty." He said and slowly eased a finger into the tight warm hole.

She gasp and parted her lips. She licked the berry of them and he wondered if she was wearing lipstick or if that was their natural color.

"You still have your gloves on." She said, looking at his face and then looking between her thighs. She moved the fabric of her dress out of her vision and strained to see what he was doing.

"Do you want me to take them off." She was biting that damn bottom lip. She made a helpless mewl then shook her head from side to side. Fuck. Fuck she was so fucking hot. His cock strained against his black Tac Pants. Clint adjusted his kneeling position and leant down.

Darcy was tight. He could see it in the way her flesh clung to his finger, the resistance he met trying to ease in deeper. She was wet but not nearly wet enough. Not if he was going to do this with his gear on. Clint kept his finger still and licked her. Fuuucccck. She tasted good. Better than he'd experienced before. Again he noted the fruitiness to her. He licked her again. Around his finger to where her pussy lips stretched and then up to the little bud of her clit.

She hissed and said "raw." She must have been at it a while then. Poor little clit, all abused and left unsatisfied. Clint moved closer to get settled in. He used his broad shoulders to keep her open and he let his finger rest inside her heat. Darcy was getting wetter as he licked her, slow and sure. A lapping really. She rocked her hips a little and he used his free hand to rest on her pale belly. To keep her in place.

She meeped and grabbed his hand to move it.

"Be still, Darcy girl." He didn't demand but he hoped she obeyed. After a moment, she relaxed and let go. He grunted and nosed at her tiny little clit.

When he sucked on it she screeched and bucked up. "Liked that did ya?" He chuckled darkly. He did it again just for fun and enjoyed the sight of her juice coat the glove of his finger. He started easing his finger in further and then back out. Time for another one. She gasped loudly and rocked her hips again. "Hurt?" He asked.

"No." She shook her head again. Her hand was resting on the swell of her tit. She seemed completely unaware.

"Touch your nipple." He suggested. She looked at him funny. "It'll feel nice." He shrugged which moved his fingers and she cried out.

"So full." She mused and really she had no idea. He supposed with the gloves on it felt different, less smooth and more raspy. Her pussy probably was confused by the roughness of the cloth compared to the slimness of his fingers. He thrust them in and out a couple of times. To hear her gasps and to see her spread. He pulled them out and used both hands to hold her open. She had a tiny little gape and the primal part of his libido wanted to absolutely ruin her.

Clint's face was an inch from her and he took his time to smell her wet heat. To see her pulsing opening searching for his rough hands. She was so very red and he had to taste her.

"You're tongue!" She yelped.he licked at her. Relentless. Stabbing the muscle into her gape and swirling it around the edges. Her inner labia was swollen. She enjoyed it when he took the time to trace them. He very lightly took them between his teeth and then he sucked. When he let go the small flaps bounced right back into place. Fucccccck. After that he went to town eating her out until she was squirming and breathless. Clint had to admit he had to use force to keep her in place. She was just fight him so hard. He had never met a girl so unwilling to relax and enjoy.

"Hold still." He was demanding now. His mouth was a mess with her and her little pussy was red with beard burn. Damn. That was gonna suck tomorrow. But today he was going to make her feel damn good. If he had to tie her down to do it.

"I can't. I can't! Please!" She looked half crazed and all sexy. Her normally pale skin was red and her face was twisted in half pleasure and half frustration. "Please Clint. I need!"

"What do you need, baby."

"Please." She sobbed and rotated her hips. "Your fingers. Please."

He didn't want to hurt her with his gloves so he started to take them off. She cried out "no!" And "please!" Again. Damn.

Daaaammnnnn.

He thrust up into her with two of his fingers. The sounds were squishy with juice. She cried out and he thrust them in and out again. He pushed back in slowly this time and found that spongy spot at the top. He laid his other hand over her pelvis and pushed from both sides. Then he jab his fingers there until she was creaming and pussy juice was spurting from around his hand. So. Fucking. Hot.

"Aaaarrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh" she cried, curled forward to see what he was doing. Then she went limp and fell back onto the bed, arms out reached. He cleaned her up with his mouth, tasting each and every aftershock. His tongue laved her twitching bud until she tensed up, breathless and fresh cream dribble out.

"Fucking beautiful baby." He said to sooth her. "I love how you came apart for me." He kissed her labia. Hot to the touch and sloppy. Clint didn't mind sloppy at all.

"You're a strange one." She laughed

That's ok. So was she.

"Do you want me to leave." He didn't usually ask. He didn't usually take this kind of advantage either. He had been spying on her after all.

"Not really." Darcy had a wicked glint in her eye. "I want you take off your pants."

Damn. She was killing him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also... taking prompts for this


	2. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is reckless and daring, Natasha acts weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suppose to be a one shot. That did not happen because when I was suppose to be chilling out between my shifts I decided... threesome.

Clint did not get to take his pants off. Not even a little bit, not even to relieve the constricting nature of his pants. Instead, the Avenger alarm sounded and he had to leave Darcy Lewis spread out on the bed mostly naked and sated like the sex goddess that she was. Damn. He didn't even have time to wash his hands before he was on the Quinjet with Tasha, Sam and Steve.

Luckily he was in the cockpit where they couldn't notice his...er... situation.

"Why do you smell like damn fine pussy?" She was right there in his ear. They pillow of her deceptively soft lips brushing along the shell. Fuck. How could he forget she saw everything? Or in this case, smelled. Tasha was leaning over pretending like she was telling him the coordinates even though he already knew. The two others didn't seem to notice. Clint's dick decided to take a sudden interest in the predicament. Double damn. Would he never learn?

"Fuck off, Tasha." He was going for good natured but he fell flat somewhere around embarrassed as hell. His best friend and partner smirked and trailed her deadly fingers through the base of his hairline.

"You're all tense." She purred, teasing him. They had never hooked up, not once but the attraction was there. Had been since the beginning. Clint supposed he had gotten used to it, a low grade pulse of arousal that he had learned to ignore. When he first brought her in, Tasha had been skittish, mistrustful and she had tried to trick him many times into bed. Clint knew on some kind of level that if he fell for it she would have used him and then discarded him. The sacrifices Clint had made to get her to defect would have been worthless. So he treated Tasha like he would a sister, had he ever had one, and then later, the chasm was too large. Neither one of them were willing to build that bridge.

Clint had no idea what she was playing at now. But his dick was damn interested. He shuddered when she scraped her nails against his scalp. He tried to dodge her but couldn't. Not if he wanted them to stay on course.

"Would you stop." He wasn't exactly whispering. Natasha's eyes gleamed green and she leaned in closer.

"I can smell her on you. So can the others. Even Sam, even without the modified senses. You made her cum so good, didn't you Clinton. I bet you left her with a smile on her face."

"Tash. Get. Lost." He grit out. She was absolutely ruining his concentration.

"Nope. I think I'll stay right here. I'm thinking you didn't fuck her. You wouldn't be this tense. What did you do? Touch her, obviously. You practically reek of pussy. Ooooh!!" Tasha said with surprise as she settled on the air of the pilot seat. "Is she a squirter? Did she get you all wet." She asked, then she licked his face.

"Fuck! Tasha! Gross! Go sit down!" She continued smirking and sat in the co-pilot seat. The turbulence was growing rough enough for her to strap in.

Their mission was making itself blatantly obvious. Someone had gotten ahold of a modified version of the serum... a cousin to the ones Cap and Banner had in their veins.

Whomever they were before, no longer existed. This new monster was large, burning red and smelled like the back end of an alley. Clint pushed all thoughts of Darcy and Tasha out of his head and found a perch.

It wasn't high enough. The gigantic beasty found him. They were eye level or rather Clint was as tall as its eye and right smack dab in his sights. The thing swiped at him, a rush of nasty dirty air stealing his breath. Clint stumbled back nearly landing on his ass. This wouldn't do at all. Taking a running leap toward the beasty, Clint let out an excited cry. He landed on the thing's shoulder. The skin was like hot sand even through his standard issued boots. Damn. Not good.

Someone was yelling at him but he was doing his best to hold onto a scraggly rope of hair. Using the instincts that hadn't failed him yet, Clint pulled an arrow out, hopefully the one he wanted and he jabbed it quickly and mercilessly into the back of beasty's neck. Moments later he heard a little pop pop and beasty grunted. Clint jumped before the thing fell forward into the building. It didn't survive the weight and crumpled like a rousing game of Jenga. Clint hoped Steve had cleared all the civilians.

The wind was loud as he fell from this high up. He reached for a grappling arrow. Fuck. Shit. Empty. Shit. This was gonna hurt. Fuuuccckkk.

"Oomph." He grunted when Falcon grabbed him beneath his armpits. A highly uncomfortable sensation, but better than splatting on the ground.

"That was reckless." Tasha said on the plane. She was bandaging up her thigh and his forehead. Her tone was dry as dust. "But spectacular."

"Is that a compliment Tasha? You must have been really worried." He bumped her with his shoulder. A random muscle twinged. He was getting pretty old to be jumping off of buildings. Not that he would admit that out loud.

"Be sure to brag to your lady friend. I'm sure she'd want to hear all about it." If Tasha had a tail she would have twitched it. Goddamn! She was jealous! No fucking way! No. Fucking. Way.

He had never seen her jealous before. And certainly not of him or anyone he... fraternized with. Their relationship was too close for that kind of shit.

"Do you want to meet her?" He asked before he could think too hard about it. His damn mouth open and eating foot. Clint didn't even know if Darcy wanted anything to do with his old ass when he got back. He had kind of... blitzed her sexually.

Tasha looked at him like he had lost his mind in the way that her facial expression never changed but her eyebrow rose a fraction. Not to be confused with complete surprised when she lifted it all the way. She gave one terse nod and a flood of relief made his legs weak. Or he was crashing from the adrenaline. Didn't matter.

He just hoped upon their return, sexy little Darcy Lewis didn't slap him right in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck not


	3. Coveted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat wants a taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author finds it difficult to do fluff and smut and must choose between the two. 
> 
> Conclusion: undecided.

Darcy did not slap him in the face. She had no reaction to their return. She was too busy.

"Jane! Jane get down from there. Dammit Jane I will go get Thor!"

"Would you? Ask him to bring Mjolnir." Jane sounded distracted. As she should be, installing some cockamamie contraption on the roof of Stark... er... Avenger's Tower required concentration. Darcy's heart was in her throat the whole time. She didn't notice the Quinjet landing beyond the displeasure of the increased draft. Nor did she pay any attention to the occupants disembarking. Not until one sidled up next to her.

"What seems to be the problem."

"She won't come down and I'm afraid she's gonna break her scrawny little neck."

"I'll take care of it." Darcy watched the woman she only knew as The Black Widow climb the rickety ladder to a frenzied Jane. Darcy didn't know what was said but it was only moments before a chastised Jane climbed back down. She took off as soon as her feet hit secure rooftop. The Black Widow followed down but walked to Darcy when she landed. Clint had joined them and he had no idea how to act in this scenario.

Tasha was eyeballing the delectable Darcy Lewis like the cat to a canary. Darcy’s cheeks were flushed from ire and the wind, not unlike how she looked right before orgasm.  
“She really is very pretty.” Tasha addressed Clint. “Her eyes sparkle.” This was said accusingly.

“I know.” Clint groaned.

“And her tits are amazing. I’d motorboat that.” Tasha was grinning at the incensed frown on Darcy’s face. Tash was making sure he was never getting laid again.

“Hey thanks for being a dirty rotten scoundrel, now fuck off.” Darcy didn't mince words. She stalked off to the sliding glass door. She didn't get far before Tasha caught her by the arm and gracefully swung her around. Clint's jaw dropped a little when the assassin laid one on the intern. That was something he never thought he would see. His best friend kissing the girl of his dreams. It was… hawt, according to his dick. Very very hawt.

“What the hell!” Darcy exclaimed when Tasha pulled back to let her have air. They were both panting and Tasha had that look in her eyes. The one that said she was going to get what she wanted and what she wanted right then was one Darcy Lewis. Clint should've been upset with her. Darcy was, in a way, his. He had laid claim to her. Now Tasha was playing some game, trying to steal the girl. He should be protesting.

Instead he was just praying Tasha would let him be a part of it.

“Come to bed with me.” Tasha, as blunt as ever when it came to real life and not spy life, said. Demanded really. She still had a hold of Darcy’s arm. Darcy was glaring at them both, moving her head back and forth. Clint wanted to hug her and smooth her frown away. Wow, he had it bad.

“Strictly dickly.” Darcy popped off.

“I have many of those.” Tasha’s voice was dry as the desert. Arousal punched Clint right in the groin. He never wanted anything more than he wanted to see Tasha use her toys on Darcy. Or to see Tasha naked. To kiss Tasha when she tasted like Darcy. Clint shook his head, visibly confused.

“Tash, are you trying to steal my woman?” He asked.

“Clint Barton, I am not your woman.” Darcy screeched, slamming her foot down like a child making sure she was heard. “One really satisfying sexual experience does not make a relationship!”

“Clint and I have never had a sexual experience and he is my man.” Which was news to Clint. Unwilling to give her away, he nodded affirmation.

“So you're a cheat and a scoundrel!” Darcy accused, pointing one finger at him.

“I can see where you would think cheat, even though that is not the case. But I am not picking up scoundrel, where is that coming from?” He cocked his head to the side. Darcy was breathing heavily and had a wild look about her. Tasha still wasn't letting her go and was being all weird again, cavemanesque, smelling the dark curls and touching her berry lips with red painted fingertips. It was confusing and sexy.

“You told!” She was trying to wrap her arms around her middle and was getting no where because Tasha was going with her. Darcy was simultaneously trying to push the other woman away and trying to hunch in. A wildly attractive tug of war with no clear winner.

Clint was pretty sure he was the winner. As a witness, he got to see the supple breasts of Darcy wiggle and brush against Tasha. Then he realized what Darcy was accusing him of.

“I didn't say a thing!”

“He really didn't.” Darcy whipped her head to stare at Tasha with disbelief. Tasha shrugged and pulled the girl tighter. “I could smell you on him. And I wanted a taste.” Tasha said in a filthy whisper. Clint blushed realizing that was exactly what she had done. “I've wanted a taste of him for years, and more recently, a taste of you.” She leaned in until her Cupid bow lips were brushing the shell of Darcy’s perfect little ears. “It was divine.”

Darcy’s eyes shot to Clint, confused and wide. Clint didn't know what the hell was going on either so he just smiled at her. The kind of smile he would send to Coulson just to fuck with him. Darcy’s frown deepened but she had stopped struggling.

“Darcy, I swear I didn't tell anyone.”

“Someone has treated you this way before.” Tasha stated for the first time in a long time actually sounding angry and not just bored with everything. Clint paid close attention to her face. The vein below her left eye was twitching. Darcy’s struggles renewed and she managed to get away. Clint suspected Tasha let her.

“It's none of your business.” Darcy spat before hightailing it back into the Tower.


	4. Glutton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation about wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping this make sense. My beta went to bed.

Tasha turned on him with pure fire in her green eyes. “I want his name and I want to know where he lives and I want to….”

“Whoa, whoa there… what the hell are you talking about.” Clint had his hands up to show he wasn't trying to stop her, just get information.

“The bro-dude she was talking about, the one from Culver. He did something to her or she wouldn't be acting this way.” Tasha was striding into the building at a determined pace.

“You can't know that.” Clint argued.

“I can.” She rebuffed. She was furiously texting. He suspected it was Maria Hill. Tasha’s go to gossip queen. Whomever See was talking to must have picked up the ball because his Tash was suddenly calm again.

“How in the hell did you come to that conclusion.”

“Women’s intuition.”

Clint couldn't argue with that. “I should go after her.” He said it as a statement, but they both knew it was a question.

“We need to talk.” Clint’s balls drew up. No man wanted to hear those words ever. He didn't say anything as he found a comfortable seat. Damn. Tony Stark had good taste in couches. Or his decorator did. Or maybe it was Pepper. Ok. It was totally Pepper

Tasha waited patiently for him to mentally join her. She was perched cross legged on the glass coffee table still in her cat suit. The lines of her body curved in a way that was inviting and yet… awkward. Her Delphic eyes were trained on him, lazily blinking.

“What? You're freaking me out.” He flopped back against the couch, ready for whatever the hell she had to say to him.

“I want you.” His best friend said, no holds barred. Ok, so maybe he wasn't ready. Geez. She rolled her eyes. “You're face is ridiculous. Stop making fish mouth at me.”

“I can't help it. This is just what my face does.”

“Which makes me question my judgement.” She was shaking her head but her tone was fond. Then she straightened her curved posture to a triangle shape that never did look right on her if anyone ever bothered to look close enough. She looked miserable, stiff backed. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Tasha. You won't. I'm not going anywhere.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished. “You will with her. She's the type. Stronger men have put down their weapons for girls like her.”

“You know I wouldn't. And I certainly wouldn't abandon my best friend.” Clint rubbed his hand against his face aggressively. Every nick and bruise was making itself known.

“I would.” She said just as clear as day. “I would do anything for a girl like that.”

“I must have a concussion.” He tried to see if his ears would pop and he shook his head to hear of his brain would move. He found nothing but a headache. “I thought you said you wanted me.”

“I did and I do.” She shrugged, a habit she had never successfully broken. “I want you both. If that's a thing that could happen.”

Clint patted his own cheeks just shy of aggressively. “What are you suggesting?”

She blinked at him, slow like gin. “You want her.” Another statement. He nodded regardless. “You want me.” This time he held himself perfectly still. “I'm not an idiot Barton. You don't hide it very well.”

“I was trying to be respectful.” He defended.

“Part of the reason why I want you my darling Hawkass.” She rose from the table and settled herself next to Clint on the couch. “You are the only man I've ever known to value my friendship over my body. I could not love you anymore for it.”

Clint choked and shot to his feet. “What? What the hell? Wh…what?” He was practically sputtering.

“Oh my god, you're face!” She laughed, delighted and clapped her hands.

“Is this some joke to you, Tash? Did Tony put you up to this?”

She sobered and flicked an eyebrow up. “Why would Tony know anything about anything,”

“Don't be that way. You know he has the good brandy.”

“Clinton Francis Barton, you are a trained spy.”

“Not the point Tash. You just dropped a bomb. You can't tell me you love me and then laugh at me unless you want me to think it's a practical joke.”

She quieted, her pixie face solemn. “You know I love you.”

“Yeah.” He said. He did. But not that way. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“I told you Clint, I won't lose you.”

“Darcy and I aren't even a thing. It's just something that happened.”

“That's where you're wrong.”

“You are literally not making any sense. What are you psychic now? Tasha! Listen to what you are saying!”

“Fine. I don't actual facts know.” It jarred Clint to hear such a Darcy-esque term from the antithesis of the intern. He eyeballed the redhead like she was some kind of alien inhabiting his friend’s body. She looked a little lost, adrift. He had only seen her this emotive right after Coulson’s ‘death’ and before Clint could bare to people again. “What I do know… is that I want in.”

“You want into a relationship that doesn't exist yet because you think you might lose my friendship over a girl that, at this very moment doesn't want to speak to me and thinks I'm the scum of the earth.”

“You totally missed the part where I want her too.” Tasha reminded him. Clint had to sit down again. She took the opportunity to pinch his thigh, to impatient to wait to get his attention. “Is this something you could want, Clint? Me and her?”

“I can't even with you right now. I would take you right now, just you, if that was something you wanted.”

“It wouldn't work, just the two of us. That's why I didn't say something before.”

“The bridge.” He muttered into his chest suddenly more weary than he'd ever thought he'd be.

“Sure, the bridge.” Her head cocked to the side and she blinked at him through her lashes. “She is the bridge. Darcy Lewis is the thing that was missing.”

“Fine.” He said, completely ready for a nap and maybe a shower and definitely a sandwich. “You get to be the one to tell her.”

He groaned when she grabbed his aching head. Her kiss was better than any of the fine brandy Tony Stark hoarded in the Tower. She was heady and rich and something like cinnamon. Tasha lips were just as soft as they looked and she eased into his space, smooth like jazz. “It'll be my pleasure.” She purred against his lips and he didn't even mind when she laughed at his confused face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know,yo, if this actually makes any sense


	5. Sorry folks!

On hiatus!!!! 


	6. Lusty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it or hate it, it's done. Having trouble with the voice. I'm trying not to forget.

Clint told himself not to. He really did. He was officially crossing the boundaries of surveillance and heading straight into stalking. It's not that he was obsessed with Darcy Lewis, but he was concerned for her. Plus, Tasha was on her way to the labs. Today was the day they made their proposition. Call him a negative Nancy but he was pretty sure this was not going to end well.

Tasha had smacked his ass and told him to get his head in the game, when he told her. Then she had kissed him, possessively and with promise. “This will work.” She’d said. “It'll be fun.” But even he could see the apprehension on her face.

Tasha had made it to the labs before he had. She was leaning against Darcy’s desk with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore the ribbed black turtle neck that always made her look like a beatnik. Her curls were loose and snarled, and her face was bare of any make-up, this was the real Natasha, his dorky Tasha. The one no one else ever got to see.

Darcy took one look at her and ran the other direction. Well, kinda. She was fiddling with one of Jane’s monstrosities. It was making beeping noises and warbling so Clint supposed she hadn't actually ran away. Tasha followed her then handed over a giant wrench. Darcy looked at it then at Tasha then she shrugged in a way that resembled ‘fuck it’. She took the tool and banged the side of the machine. It made a long beep and settled down.

“Darcy Lewis, queen of the labs.” Darcy blew on the wrench, her smoking gun. Damn, she was cute. Tasha must've thought so too, she made a noise of wonderment, a mixture of a squeak and a snort. Not faked. It was strange to see his partner so relaxed around another person.

“What can I do ya for.” Darcy asked with a snap of her berry flavored gum.

“Come to dinner.” Blunt like a knife to the gut.

“Succinct.” Darcy commented. “Are you asking me or are you telling me.”

“A little bit of both.” Tasha shrugged like it didn't matter. Clint wondered if Darcy could tell how much of a put on that was.

“Is this a date?” Tasha coiled up. Clint could see her body language change from dorky Tasha to nervous and trying to hide it Tasha. He thought about swinging down distracting them both but waited to see if he needed to. Tasha wouldn't thank him for it and Darcy… well, she was an unknown reaction. So far she had been unpredictable and he didn't particularly like not knowing what to expect.

“Yes.” How was she so fucking brave, his beautiful Spider?

“Ok!” Darcy exclaimed. “Will there be wine?”

Tasha laughed, “If you’d like.”

“Awesome sauce! I like those Slutty Sweet Reds,” Darcy pushed her glasses up her nose and gave a gapped tooth grin.

Relieved Tasha’s demeanor changed again. Her mouth pursed like she was thinking. Clint knew what she was thinking. He'd seen it before when she had tried to seduce him, only this time she wasn't trying to trick anybody. When she went in for the kiss he couldn't decide who to watch and then he didn't have too. Darcy seemed to… melt right into Tasha. A melding of dark and light, the deceptively strong Spysassin wrapping her hand around the pale and vulnerable throat of the Intern. Clint was pretty sure by the noises Darcy was making, he was about to see some softcore porn. He didn't mind one fucking bit. Tasha held her in place and devoured her. And Darcy just let her, pushed forward into the hold, making a desperate noise not unlike what he had wrung from her. Tasha’s free hand wandered, gently stroking down the girl’s side. Sweetly cupping her abundant breast, drifting down to her waist to pull her closer and finally grabbing her ass possessively.

Clint was turned on and a little jealous but mostly he was just grateful that two of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen were actively engaged in an erotic embrace and quite possibly willing to let him join.

Better than trick arrows and purple leather. Better than pizza. Ok. Maybe? Nope. Yes. Better than pizza.

“Is he gonna come down or just perv all day?” Darcy murmured, mouth still pressed against Tasha’s. His partner growled and then laughed.

“How long have you known he was there?”

“He's always there.” Darcy said simply. Tasha tensed up and pulled away. Her face was thunderous. “Easy there.” Darcy foolishly reached out her hand and touched Tasha’s smooth cheek. “It's in his nature.”

“Intrusive.”

“Hypocrite.” Darcy rebuked with a small smile and a stroke of her thumb. “If I was offended or felt like he was violating my privacy, believe me, I would let him know. In all the ways.” She dimpled her own cheeks. “In violent and surprising ways.”

Clint's balls ached with arousal and fear.

“I would like to see that.” Tasha admitted.

Clint fled. It seemed like the most prudent of responses.

*********

“Wait. What? You actually meant dinner.” Darcy’s lips were round with a silent “oh”. The table was set with a white linen cloth, three place settings and candles with three simple daisies in a Chrystal vase. Tasha had made those fancy dumplings with mushrooms and creamy sauce. She was wearing a white dress with cherries as polkadots. Her feet were bare and her toes were red. She had badgered Clint into clean jeans and a shirt with actual sleeves. It felt weird and pretentious. But he felt like it was necessary. The way all rituals were necessary. Dressing up for a date? Totally a ritual.

Darcy was in jeans too, ripped at the knees and skin tight with black suede ankle boots and a glittery halter top, shiny with black sequins. Her hair was half up and haphazard in a way that was uniquely sexy. Her lips were the red of Tasha’s toes and for some reason it made him laugh. One of those snorting laughs that was in no way appropriate if the look on Tasha’s face was any indication.

“You actually want to date me,” Darcy seemed dazed. Like the idea was a foreign fucking concept. Tasha put down the bottle of wine, still unopened. She pad forward on her bare feet. The kiss was sweet, awkwardly long and full of promise. Even Clint could feel the intent.

“I would very much like to date you. We would.” She corrected and nodded in Clint's direction, “Also, we want give you many, many orgasms.”

“I'm not sure…” Darcy hedged, her body language squirrelly. Tasha eased back, spine ramrod straight. Her face morphing in the calm facade that never failed to make his stomach feel like he ate the wrong kind of tropical berries.

“I see.” Voice cool like her homeland. Hard as ice.

“I really think you don't.” Darcy said in a quiet and meek manner. A 180 of her whole persona.

“You don't want to date an assassin.” Tasha did not phrase a question.

“That's not… I don't… don't slink off! I'm… I got issues too ya know! They might not be as traumatic or dangerous as yours but… I’m no good at this.”

“Babe.” Clint piped up. “None of us are.” He was speaking to both of them. Neither one seemed to be listening. “Let’s see if we can get through one meal before anybody throws in the towel. Darce, these dumplings are bomb. Tasha made them special. She must really like you.”

Darcy’s face did a weird thing. A rush of various emotions he couldn't decipher. Clint plopped down in a chair and kicked one out for her to sit. Tasha wouldn't appreciate the gesture. She was standing, faced away from both of them at the doorway. Her hands were not clenched into fists but her shoulders were ready. Clint knew she would claw his eyes out if he tried to approach her.

“They smell great.” Darcy exclaimed, plucky being the word of the day. She served herself a large portion. Clint was already stuffing his face. “Er mer gerd.” Darcy moaned obscenely loud and suggestively.

“Right!” Clint agreed.

It took a few more moments and a struggling Darcy, trying and failing to open the wine, before Tasha came back over. She said nothing when she took the bottle and popped the cork but she sat at her place and watched them both close enough to make every hair on his arm stand up.

Darcy was sweet and cheerful but guarded. Tasha was blank faced and silent and Clint was ready to hide in the ceiling for the next three days before the meal was finished and cleaned up, but nobody died. Or even mortally wounded. It wasn't the worst date he'd ever been on.

“So should I go or…?” Darcy was fidgeting with her top, plucking a dangling sequin. Tasha was watching her like a twitch-tailed cat.

“We could watch a movie.” He suggested. But even his voice broke with the strain.

“I think I'll go actually.” Darcy said. She couldn't make eye contact with either one of them.

“Coffee.” Tasha’s voice was softer than he'd ever remembered hearing.

“Now?” Darcy asked clearly surprised.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Clint asked.

“Yes.” Tasha decided, curls bobbing with the nod. “Another date.”

Darcy’s dear in the headlights look was pretty fucking cute. Tasha must have thought along the same vein because her smile was fond, gentle.

“Goodnight.” Darcy cried before she literally fled out of his apartment.

“I think that went well.” Tasha mused. She drained her glass of wine and smiled at him warmly. Of course she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moved again. Found a job and a boyfriend... kinda. Not sure why I can't find the time to write lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Drop me a line of what you think!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end

The trio of two spies and one lab manager became a thing. Where there was one, the other two were inevitably close by. Unless there was a mission. During which one tense and quite frankly, cranky, Lab Manager walked around with a sour expression. The residents of the Tower learned to not approach her without a clear and precise purpose and to not mention the absence of her newly acquired companions. Or as Tony dubbed them, her tweedle shadows.

Tony would like it known that he did not mean to offend anyone. Natasha Romanoff is not an a Dee or a Dum and he can only apologize so many times before his lips turn blue from repetition and lack of air. Also, Clint Barton is in perfect shape complete with the “v” even though he isn't a Dorito shaped Patriot, he does a shitton of cardio and has never, ever worn the colors of red or yellow or any combination of the aforementioned hues. Purple is bliss.

Tony would also like to state that anything he said that may or may not have been offensive (it totally was) was not meant to be taken seriously. He was just trying to cheer up the sad faced lab monkey. Throwing chocolate in her general direction was not working and he was out options.

Darcy Lewis was proving formidable during the times her bosom buddies were absent. Tony did not like the sad faces or the meanness. Or the glitter. The glitter was the worst. The only redeeming quality of glitter at any point in time is the laughing cackling fade as Darcy ran away or rather, scuttled through the secret vents Clint had shown her.

Clint and Tasha never stayed away for long. Not if they could help it. And Clint was spending less and less time being sent to medical (and resisting) and more and more time enjoying post victory triple chocolate Brookies.

And the sex.

He was just as efficient even when he took less risks. Archery wasn't nearly as cool without the acrobatics but he would much rather feel Darcy’s soft hands checking for injuries than the cold brisk hands of Dr. Cho. Plus, Tasha was slapping him in the back of the head less and less. Plus, if he came home completely unscathed… Darcy would let him do the thing. The thing where he watched as Tasha slowly took her apart. Starting with a soft and lazy kiss. The kind that Darcy hated a little because she was a little less than patient at the best of times and when there was nudity involved… Tasha had had to tie her down more than once. Which Darcy didn't seem to mind at all.

She wasn't tied down now. Now she was backed against the kitchen counter with her mouth occupied and one exposed breast. She had on a white button up that currently had no buttons, they were all on the floor. Tasha was like that sometimes, forceful and then sweet. She was massaging Darcy’s generous tit, lifting and tugging the nipple. Clint groan out loud. He wanted to join. To take care of the other breast. But he Wanted to Watch!

Darcy broke away for air and let her head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. Tasha trailed kisses down her pale smooth throat. Her plush lips pillowing softly. It was erotic and sweet. Tasha then boosted their girl onto the counter, hand never leaving the red pebbled nipple. She went after the other one with her mouth. Specifically, her teeth. Darcy hissed at her and then moaned from the dueling sensations.

It wasn't long before Darcy was pleading. “Please, please, please” in desperate little moans.

“What do you need, My Darling?” Tasha’s accent was out. The one nearly eradicated.

“You're mouth… please!”

“More kisses?” Tasha teased to Darcy’s furiously shaking head. “Oh… where would you like me to put my mouth?”

“Mean.” Darcy muttered but spread her thighs.

“Clever girl.” Tasha eased Darcy's black skirt up and made quick work of ripping the tights off of her. “No panties?” Tasha murmured to herself and leant down. She kissed Darcy's mound. As if to say “hello”. Her tongue flicked out to taste the bare skin there. “Open up for me” Tasha demanded and helped Darcy bend her knees back until her feet and her ass were on the edge of the counter. It looked wildly uncomfortable but Darcy didn't protest. She spread her labia, pink and glistening.

Damn. He wanted to taste.

Tasha was taking full advantage, tonguing and slurping the pink flesh. She was deliberately sloppy, not paying attention to anyone part long enough to set a rhythm. Darcy was mewling but in too precarious a position to strain.

“Love how you just take it.” Tasha murmured. “Our pretty girl.” She was petting Darcy's thighs and licking her inner labia. “You've got the cutest little gape.” Clint wasn't sure she was speaking to anyone in particular until:

“Get your ass over here perv.”

“You give the cutest nicknames.” Clint drawled but jumped down from his perch and shucked his sweatpants in one motion. Then he threw his shirt somewhere toward the living room. Tasha was smirking at him.

“Presumptuous.” She commented. But she lifted her slick mouth for a filthy kiss.

“Yummy.” He licked her soft lips, the taste of Darcy like sunbursts between them. Tasha’s eyes glazed over while he chased the taste then she pushed him away. Darcy was watching them with dark liquid eyes. She was still holding herself open. Tasha smirked and slapped the exposed clit.

Darcy yelped but didn't try to close her legs. Clint buried his face in the abused flesh to sooth the ache. From there they moved things to the bedroom. Tasha straddled a mewling Darcy's face and rode her tongue. Clint eased into Darcy’s tight wet heat like a luxurious bath. It felt so right. He pulled Tasha back until they could kiss in that precarious position. It made his thrusts long and deep. Darcy shuddered after each one until she was one constant shake, her cries muffled by Tasha’s thighs.

Tasha wasn't far behind her quivering girlfriend. Darcy was relentless with her mouth despite the orgasms.

“Oh! Fuck!” Clint heard before Tasha stilled and moved off of a sweaty faced Darcy. He was not ashamed to admit the image made him cum deep inside his girlfriend.

It wasn't until later when they were halfway cleaned up and soaked in each other's smell that Tasha, with on hand possessively on one of Darcy’s tits and the other on his ass, squeezed the bodies she was holding. “Mine.” She stated.

“Yes.” Clint responded.

“Yup.” Darcy popped the ‘p’.

And that was that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the ending was so rushed. I might come back to this, but, I have too many stories just waiting to be done. And new ideas that I refuse to start until these are done!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me so very happy. I even do a dance!!!!


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